Page 49 of Veil of Lies

Chapter 41

Brax

Mom answered my call almost immediately. “Where have you been?” she snapped, “I tried calling dozens of times.”

I sank back against the pillows on my bed, wishing I was back in my car, kissing Stella. God, I was on fire for her. My cock was still uncomfortably hard. Once this call ended, I needed to do something to relieve the pressure. No doubt Stella was now back in her room with Harley. The fucker. If he thought he could cock block me and get away with it, he was deluded. I’d get my own back eventually.

“Are you even listening to me?” Mom’s voice broke through my thoughts, and I winced.

“Yes, of course,” I lied.

“She’s at your college.”

“Who?” I asked.

“If you’d been listening, you would know!”

“OK, just fucking tell me what this is about so I can go. I have shit to do.”

Mom sighed. “Daniel Cancello’s daughter, she’s at Ridgeview College.”

My heart stopped for a moment. “I didn’t know he had a daughter?”

“It’s not well known. He kept her out of the limelight.”

If his daughter was here, she had to be around my age. I didn’t know everyone on campus, but still, I tried to think. Was there anyone who stood out? Not that I could think of. Certainly not anyone with the last name Cancello. I’d have noticed that for sure.

“How do you know this?”

“Her ex-boyfriend did an interview for the New York Times. He provided a couple of private photos. The article went live this morning and some girl from your college got in touch to say she thought Cancello’s daughter was a student there. It’s not been officially confirmed, but I want you to look at the photos and see if you recognize her?”

I opened up a browser on my phone and searched for the story. Not surprisingly, the article was the lead result. It ran to several pages, talking about how this guy had met Cancello’s daughter - Estella was her name - and stuff about their relationship. What a bastard. I didn’t have any great affection for this girl, but to sell her out was a real dick move.

There were two photos. Both showed a teenager, maybe 17 or 18, with waist-length pale blond hair. She was not facing the camera in either of the images. One had been taken at a party, so the focus was slightly off and the light poor. The other showed her in a bikini, standing next to a palm tree, clearly talking to someone out of shot. Her long hair brushed over a shapely ass but part of her face was obscured by a wide-brimmed hat.

While they were not professional photos, they were good enough for me to see the girl was very attractive. She had Cancello’s olive skin but not his dark hair. I assumed her pale hair came from her mother - the article mentioned her mother had passed away when she was born but gave no details on why.

The photos niggled me. There was something familiar about Cancello’s daughter. I swear I knew her somehow, but when I searched my memory for any girls with long hair that shade of pale blond, I drew a blank. There wasn’t anyone on campus with hair that distinctive.

She could have dyed it, of course, but a figure like that was harder to obscure. I’d have definitely noticed a hot chick like her.

And if I had somehow overlooked her, Harley wouldn’t have. He was like a bloodhound when it came to fuckable women. The guy never missed an opportunity to sink his dick into a hot piece of ass.

“I don’t recognize her,” I admitted.

Mom huffed with disappointment. “Well keep a look out. I want to know if she’s really there.”

“Why? What does it matter? It’s not her fault her father screwed everyone over. She was just a kid.”

“Really? You honestly think that girl knew nothing at all about her father’s business? She’s your age, Brax! Of course she knew what was going on.”

Mom’s anger, pain, and sense of frustration bled through our connection. Of all of us, I know she felt the most guilt about my father. He was well aware losing all our money would hurt her the most.

She’d given up her career to have a family and had regretted it every day since. Now she was in her 40s, she had zero chance of picking up where she left off, with her wage-earning potential greatly diminished.

Mom loved the good life and being poor was something she struggled with.

“And what do you want me to do if I see her? String her up from the north tower? Tar and feather her? Or bury her in an unmarked grave in the forest? Let me know, yeah? I’ll need to buy a shovel from Home Depot. Assuming my credit card still works.”

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